


Thistle Honey

by torino10154



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Community: hp_goldenage, F/M, Older Characters, Post-War, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-06
Updated: 2018-03-06
Packaged: 2019-03-05 17:59:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,079
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13393239
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/torino10154/pseuds/torino10154
Summary: Second time's the charm?





	Thistle Honey

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to SDK and Badgerlady for the feedback/beta. Hope the prompter enjoys!

Minerva watches Severus from her office window as he takes his daily walk around the grounds. It's taken years of rehabilitation but, if one did not know, they'd hardly notice the slight limp.

She, however, remembers the way he strode down the corridors, head held high, leaving terrified students in his wake.

She remembers other things, too. His long fingers carding through in her hair, his mouth warm on her bare skin, sweat on his brow as he thrust, the way he said her name....

She shakes her head to clear it. That was a lifetime ago. _Before_ in a world that is now _After_. 

Surely if he'd been interested in renewing their liaison, he'd have done so by now.

Minerva turns away from the window once he's out of sight and walks to her desk. There is much work to be done running a school and she doesn't have time to dwell on what ifs and might have beens.

xXx

Severus returns to his chambers after walking the grounds, a required portion of the healing process. He'd thought it unnecessary but after three days inside, his left leg becomes quite stiff and his limp more pronounced.

Damn Poppy for being right.

Once his fingers have warmed, Severus chops licorice root and fennel, slices orange peel and echinacea root, grinds cinnamon bark, then combines them to make tea to sooth his throat. In spite of what others seemed to think, he'd never cared for anise flavour, but he can't deny it does help after a long day of lecturing students.

It works satisfactorily and that it reminds him of Minerva has nothing to do with it. 

She'd introduced him to it when she was recovering from an illness. That he'd found pleasure in doting on her had been a surprise. Odd that he should miss playing house-elf, though of course that isn't the only thing he misses about her.

Her hair spilling over her shoulders, the soft curve of her breast, the way her accent thickens as she loses herself to her pleasure. 

He clenches his jaw and puts those thoughts behind lock and key. Whatever they had is firmly in the past.

He refuses to add a spoonful of thistle honey to his tea to prove it to himself.

Appropriately, it goes down bitter.

xXx

Minerva has decided to step down at the end of term. She honestly can't believe she lasted fifteen years as headmistress but Hogwarts needed her. A firm but stable hand to rebuild and calm a generation of students. There are some days she almost forgets the damaged corridors and charred stone. Other days she vividly recalls Remus Lupin ash white on the floor of the Great Hall.

The Weasleys sobbing over their lost son and brother.

Severus Snape lying in a pool of blood.

Seeing him sitting across from her in the staffroom makes her heart skip a beat. He's alive and that's all that matters. 

Even if he is shooting daggers in her direction.

"Who do you suppose will lead the school when you leave?" he asks coldly.

"That'll be up to the board of gov'ners, won't it?" Hagrid says.

Minerva nods. "I can make recommendations but it is ultimately their decision." She turns back toward Severus. "I had thought to suggest your name, Severus."

"Preposterous," he snaps. "I shan't be staying." With that he stands and makes his way out, thankfully choosing not to slam the door behind him.

She can't imagine where he'll go if he leaves Hogwarts—he's lived there virtually his entire life—but things have changed and there are fewer familiar faces around the staff table now.

She sometimes even thinks he's only stayed because of her.

Preposterous, indeed.

xXx

He refuses to look at Minerva over supper. He'd not considered she might retire. It seemed headmasters and headmistresses stayed until the inevitable occurred unless they were ousted.

He's become used to their routine and, though it is not nearly as pleasurable as it once was, he enjoys her company and their sparring over tea—heavily dosed with whisky—is most satisfying. 

She is the only person who was his equal in terms of intelligence and wit; everyone else in the castle can go hang for all he cares.

No matter. He will survive. Somehow. 

His food is tepid and tasteless and, though he's only eaten half, he pushes his plate away and stands.

"Are you well enough for our nightly game of chess, Severus?" Minerva says, stopping him as he tries to pass.

No, he's not, he thinks, he's not well at all. Nevertheless, he nods once. 

"Marvellous." She gives him a smile that reaches her eyes and Severus recalls that she used to look at him like that.

 _Before_.

xXx

Minerva is generous with the whisky. Severus is the only one with whom she shares her twenty-five-year-old Glenmorangie.

"Whatever will you do with yourself away from the castle?" he asks and she notes the waver in his voice.

She thinks back to a conversation they once had. It's a risk to bring it up but if not now, when?

Turning toward the fire, she takes a fortifying sip of whisky before she answers. "I should like a cottage by the sea. Traditional stonework, of course, and a large garden. In Cornwall, perhaps."

She hears the sharp inhalation of breath and slowly looks back at Severus.

"You mock me?" he whispers, his face white. 

She swallows and shakes her head. "Never, Severus." 

"Then why would you mention that now, after all this time?"

She sets down her glass and reaches for his free hand. "The salt air will do wonders for your health, so I've been told."

His fingers tighten. "I didn't dare hope...." He trails off, unwilling or unable to finish.

"Much has come between us over the last twenty years—" He tries to pull his hand away but Minerva holds it fast. "—but the flame still burns, does it not?"

Severus draws their clasped hands to his lips, pressing a kiss to the back of Minerva's. "Eternally."

xXx

Minerva peeks out the cottage window to watch Severus as he snips fresh thyme for their supper of chicken, potatoes and green beans.

With a smile, she puts on the kettle to boil. He'll want a warm cup of her herbal tea when he comes inside.

When she hears the door, she pours them each a cup and stirs in a generous spoonful of thistle honey.

**Author's Note:**

> This work is a part of an anonymous fest and the creator will be revealed no later than March 30. Please comment here or at [our community on Dreamwidth.](https://hp-goldenage.dreamwidth.org/57909.html) Thanks! ♥


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